Silver
by Red Baron A.K.A. Crowley
Summary: Oneshot. The Lone Ranger vs. Edward Cullen. We all know what'll happen. WE NEED A LONE RANGER CATEGORY!T for some blood, not graphically described


Silver

The Lone Ranger vs. Edward Cullen. We all know what'll happen.

NOTE: Twihards and antis who do your research, I know Edward hasn't been born yet, but I couldn't think of a good way to bring the ranger into the right timeline. To my fellow rangers, I apologize for having this sparkling, incompetent, weak bastard kill Cavendish so easily. In reality, Cavendish would have destroyed him but hey, it's a plot device. Also, I may lightly poke fun at how the writers treated (I.E., screwed over)Tonto in 1 or 2 places, it's in good fun.

Out in the wild heat of the desert, there stood a man in a white hat, black mask, red bandana and blue shirt kneeling next to a brilliantly white mount. He was kneeling over a bloodied corpse, seemingly deflated by the sun. Nearby stood an Indian in a brown, stereotypically Indian outfit with his jet black hair pulled back in a small pony tail. This man had a brown and white mount standing beside him, looking about it as though it could find nothing of interest on the flat, cactus filled plain. The first man spoke

"I don't understand it Tonto. He doesn't seem to have any blood left. It's as though he's been drained of it." The Indian replied "That explain trail of blood leading off to west. Maybe whoever drained it not have good container." The ranger nodded his assent and set himself upon his mount. "That would make sense. There's only one way to find out. We have to follow this trail. HIYO SILVER, AWAY!" And with that he rode off, leaving the Indian standing in his dust, scrambling for his horse. He caught up and the pair followed the blood to a canyon, at which point the ranger briefly shuddered before resuming his impenetrable demeanor.

They rode to the end of Brian's Gap, whereupon they found a teenager with blood all over his mouth and front. Tonto rushed to give him medical aid, but the ranger stopped him, saying "It's not his blood Tonto." The boy emerged from the shadow of the pool and began to…sparkle? What the hell? The desert sun played strange tricks on you sometimes. The boy began to approach them "Stop." Cried the ranger. "Do you know what you've done? You've killed that man back there." The boy flashed what seemed to be a grin at them. "Do you know who he was?" he replied, growing ever nearer. "He was a thief and a murderer. In this very canyon he killed 6 texas rangers mercilessly."

Edward felt a surge of surprise, fear and anger from the masked one, and a small amount of surprise from the werewolf. Wait, all of them were werewolves, right? He shook the thought off. It was of no consequence. He didn't feel the need to read them yet, it was more fun this way. "So you thought he was a good man did you?" he guessed, judging from the man's emotions "If you don't believe me, their graves are right over there."

"I didn't think he was good man" The ranger said, his rage clearly rising, bottled for years. "And I knew he killed those rangers"

Edward was getting bored with them, and decided to read the masked one. Strange, 6 seemed to have registered as 5 with him. He looked deeper. He saw memories, this canyon, riders, gunfire, pain, death, betrayal….survival. He was the 6th ranger. "But not all of them I see. That grave is empty. It's yours." He saw the werewolf saving him, he saw him as a child saving the werewolf.

"You" the ranger said, his voice shaking "How do you know that? HOW?" To which Edward replied. "I can read minds" The lone ranger had gone up against some nuts before. Some of them would have said this honestly, some metaphorically, some just to screw with you. He didn't yet know which category this boy belonged in. "But what that man did doesn't change the fact that he's dead." The boy laughed "But it makes it so much more bearable, doesn't it? His victims' families can sleep in peace now" The ranger stared in horror "It's not up to us to judge that man! It's for the law to decide. His fate is not in our hands. We can't just go around playing god!" the reply came "And yet you carry a gun. With special bullets I can tell. Although your mind is shrouded enough to keep me from discovering the material. Have you not killed with it?" the ranger stood his ground "Not since I took this mask, and I hope never again. I bring criminals to the law. I'll bring 100 men to the law for each of the men who died here, but I only bring them to the law. It's not my place to pass judgment on them. Son, you're coming with us"

Edward read his memories again. He was telling the truth. Over a hundred had been taken in by him already. He was a good man. Outwardly, he laughed. "I don't want to kill you. You seem nice. But there is no way you're taking me in."

The ranger inwardly sighed. He was just a boy. He didn't need this in his history. "This is your last chance…what was your name?" "Edward Cullen" "This is your last chance to surrender. The boy didn't surrender. He advanced on the masked man and the Indian, his speed increasing, nearing inhuman ability. The ranger pulled his gun just as fast and fired in the leg. The…creature shrieked in agony and slowed, but kept coming at them, fast.

Edward felt that shot more than any Cavendish had fired on him. He shrieked and read the man's mind again, trying to determine what had happened. The mine. The bullets. Silver. Vampire bane. He redoubled his speed, hoping to overtake the ranger before he could fire again.

The masked man fired again, hitting his attacker in the shoulder. He shrieked again, but kept coming. He knew he had no choice. He fired 2 shots nearly simultaneously, striking the boy in the heart and the head. He shrieked louder than before, a demonic sound, more discordant than any the men had yet heard and burst into flame, leaving only a skeleton. "Tonto" said the masked man, his hands shaking "What was that thing" Tonto, clearly equally shaken, replied "Vampire. Ancient Romanian legend. Them killed by silver." The masked man looked astonished "Can they read minds?" Tonto considered for a moment. "No kimosabe. They no read minds. I have no explanation for that." He pondered this oddity for a moment. "They no sparkle either. Me think this may be old Indian legend, a demon of deception that would ensnare the youth with it's beauty and conquer their spirits." The ranger sat In silence by the pool for a time, and then told the Indian to help him dig seventh and eighth graves. They worked for some time and buried Cavendish and the boy in them, and rode off into the sunset with a cloud of dust, the speed of light, and a hearty hiyo silver.

Stoker, who was in the old west for reasons unknown, had seen the whole thing. He'd watched him kill the sparklepyre and bury it humanely. He'd handled the situation masterfully. Who was that masked man?


End file.
